plans.
When we finish dinner George and I stroll down the pavement hand in hand as we make our way over to the West End for the show. To anyone looking at us we look like your average young couple. In a way George is just as damaged as I am. He finds it hard to get close to people. Somehow, despite both of us having a lack of trust in people, we managed to find an unbreakable trust in each other. Perhaps we sensed a certain need in each other that the other could fill. Whatever it is, George has been a rock to me on more than one occasion. Molly is the friend that gives you sensible, serious and sometimes brutally honest advice. George is the friend who takes you out and gets you trashed, holds your hair while you’re sick, and then spoons you through your hangover the next day. George speaks my language, which is that I don’t want to talk about it. I want to forget about it. Not that I don’t love Molly, but she’s fighting a losing battle with her rational thoughts and explanations. If someone hurts me, I’m done, rational explanations or not. I am done.
George and I enter through a back door to the dressing rooms. He leads me through the chaotic area showing me around. There are rails of costumes and props everywhere. Dancers litter the corridors, some stand and talking, others are stretching. George shows me the stage which looks very daunting from here. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have to wait here, and step out onto that stage knowing there are thousands of people watching you. Of course I’ve been to the West End to watch shows before, but from the stage the venue looks enormous.
The show is one of the smaller productions that are currently running at the venue. It runs Monday to Thursday evenings. The weekend performances are reserved for the bigger productions. That said, the tickets for tonight are sold out, which is great. The more popular the show is, the better it is for the careers of the performers in the show.
Curtain up is in an hour, and George has to get ready. I walk with him to his changing room which he shares with three other dancers, one of which, I quickly note is TJ. Awkward.
“Hey guys.” George says. “This is my friend Lilly.” A couple of the dancers wave briefly at me.
TJ looks up when we enter the room, only to glance away quickly when he sees George. I really like TJ, and I hate to see him hurt. It makes me want to grab George and shake him, but at the end of the day, he’s clearly not the right guy for George. If he was the ‘one’ then his career wouldn’t matter, there would be no excuse, he would make it work. Not that I really believe in this ‘one’ rubbish. But I do think that for people like me and George there will be one person who walks into your life and tears it off its hinges. That’s certainly what happened to me with Theo. That person has to be willing to fight tooth and nail to get to you, they have to have the tenacity to climb your walls, no matter how many times they may fall. Each time they fail, they have to get up and try harder. I watch the way TJ subtly glances at George and I can see straight away that he’s in love with him, but he’s not willing to keep climbing. He fell at the first hurdle and that means he will never have George. Part of me hopes that one day George finds that person, but the main bulk, the part that currently feels like it’s been shredded, hopes he is never that vulnerable to one person. That kind of vulnerability leaves you wide open. All you can do is try and trust that person not to hurt you. That vulnerability left me bleeding.
I go and sit on a stool next to TJ’s chair whilst George disappears to get some hair spray. “Hey TJ.” I greet him and offer a small smile.
“Hi Lilly. How are you?” He asks sadly.
I shrug. “Okay. You know how it goes. Men are shit.” I sigh. “Present company excluded of course.” I smile.
He returns it with a sad smile of his own. “Sometimes people are just
When we finish dinner George and I stroll down the pavement hand in hand as we make our way over to the West End for the show. To anyone looking at us we look like your average young couple. In a way George is just as damaged as I am. He finds it hard to get close to people. Somehow, despite both of us having a lack of trust in people, we managed to find an unbreakable trust in each other. Perhaps we sensed a certain need in each other that the other could fill. Whatever it is, George has been a rock to me on more than one occasion. Molly is the friend that gives you sensible, serious and sometimes brutally honest advice. George is the friend who takes you out and gets you trashed, holds your hair while you’re sick, and then spoons you through your hangover the next day. George speaks my language, which is that I don’t want to talk about it. I want to forget about it. Not that I don’t love Molly, but she’s fighting a losing battle with her rational thoughts and explanations. If someone hurts me, I’m done, rational explanations or not. I am done.
George and I enter through a back door to the dressing rooms. He leads me through the chaotic area showing me around. There are rails of costumes and props everywhere. Dancers litter the corridors, some stand and talking, others are stretching. George shows me the stage which looks very daunting from here. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have to wait here, and step out onto that stage knowing there are thousands of people watching you. Of course I’ve been to the West End to watch shows before, but from the stage the venue looks enormous.
The show is one of the smaller productions that are currently running at the venue. It runs Monday to Thursday evenings. The weekend performances are reserved for the bigger productions. That said, the tickets for tonight are sold out, which is great. The more popular the show is, the better it is for the careers of the performers in the show.
Curtain up is in an hour, and George has to get ready. I walk with him to his changing room which he shares with three other dancers, one of which, I quickly note is TJ. Awkward.
“Hey guys.” George says. “This is my friend Lilly.” A couple of the dancers wave briefly at me.
TJ looks up when we enter the room, only to glance away quickly when he sees George. I really like TJ, and I hate to see him hurt. It makes me want to grab George and shake him, but at the end of the day, he’s clearly not the right guy for George. If he was the ‘one’ then his career wouldn’t matter, there would be no excuse, he would make it work. Not that I really believe in this ‘one’ rubbish. But I do think that for people like me and George there will be one person who walks into your life and tears it off its hinges. That’s certainly what happened to me with Theo. That person has to be willing to fight tooth and nail to get to you, they have to have the tenacity to climb your walls, no matter how many times they may fall. Each time they fail, they have to get up and try harder. I watch the way TJ subtly glances at George and I can see straight away that he’s in love with him, but he’s not willing to keep climbing. He fell at the first hurdle and that means he will never have George. Part of me hopes that one day George finds that person, but the main bulk, the part that currently feels like it’s been shredded, hopes he is never that vulnerable to one person. That kind of vulnerability leaves you wide open. All you can do is try and trust that person not to hurt you. That vulnerability left me bleeding.
I go and sit on a stool next to TJ’s chair whilst George disappears to get some hair spray. “Hey TJ.” I greet him and offer a small smile.
“Hi Lilly. How are you?” He asks sadly.
I shrug. “Okay. You know how it goes. Men are shit.” I sigh. “Present company excluded of course.” I smile.
He returns it with a sad smile of his own. “Sometimes people are just
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